A friend of mind is going on a trip soon that will require him to engage in a number of meetings and activities in which he will need to be able to move through some challenging moments.  As we talked about his upcoming trip, I was reminded of the importance of allowing water to be a teacher.   My friend asked me how I made the distinction between struggle that was pointless, as compared to effort that was needed, and how I make the distinction between when to push and when to let something go.

As I talked to him, I realized how deeply I value the capacity to be like water – to be aware of where the flow opens and where it doesn’t.  Being water means to sense where there’s an opening for movement and, when there’s not, to notice if it’s a time to be still or if you feel moved to find the next opening.  Remember, water doesn’t struggle.  It moves until it finds its way and when it can’t move, as when it’s in a pond or lake, it can stay still or evaporate and move as a cloud that rains down somewhere else.  Water teaches us that there are times when movement is required and necessary, there are times when staying still is what the moment offers, and there are times when we recognize we are waiting to move – that an opening is right on the horizon and will let us know when it arrives.

My friend asked how I can tell when the moment for movement arrives, and I told him that I use two ways of knowing this.  First, I sense in my body if there is flow, if things are moving or opening for me.  For example, if I call someone to see if they can get together to talk over a project, or if I need an appointment with a body worker or someone to help me with something, if our schedules easily coincide, I consider that flow.  If we can’t find a time no matter how many ways we look at our schedules, I know that the flow hasn’t yet opened on that particular activity and I don’t push it.  If the way opens, I tend to jump in and engage it the way you might grab a wave when surfing.  There’s a certain feel when things open up, and it’s useful to cultivate a willingness to move into, and with, these openings. 

The biggest lesson I’ve learned as I’ve lived with flow over the years is that even big challenges can be easier when engaged from a perspective of flow.  By continually following the openings, things have a tendency to move from here to there with the least amount of struggle.  Another example – when I write these experiments, I don’t do so on a schedule of any kind.  I feel into them and see what’s moving.  Sometimes several experiments pop out at once, and sometimes it’s only at the last minute that I sense it’s time to sit at the computer and write down my thoughts.  By allowing myself to sense into the flow, I save a lot of wear and tear around trying to “make” something come, or attempting to force the process.

For this week’s experiment, allow yourself to play with flow.  Pick small, unimportant moments and notice what happens when you respond with where you sense an opening.  Also, play with stepping back from struggle when things aren’t working out no matter what you do.  That doesn’t mean you’re giving up.  It just means you’re stepping back to feel into where the flow *is* happening.

As with all the experiments, have fun with this one and pay special attention to the sensations in your body.  When you’re connected to the flow, there will be a certain relaxation, or excitement, or sense of “rightness” in your body.  When you’re in a state of struggle, where there’s no opening, you’ll notice constriction, or agitation, or discomfort of some kind.  As always, your sensations will be unique to you, and it’s useful to get to know what they are.  They’ll let you know right away if you’re in the flow, or if you’ve fallen out of awareness into struggle.  And struggle is its own invitation back into flow.